Atlas - My body is a hell

and I’ve been running out of ^Gpatience my poems aren’t as ^Cclever any^Cmmore people say they’re all too ^Ghonest but honesty is ^Call I can ^Cmafford and maybe loss is not a ^Gbad thing ’cause maybe i can ^Cwrite these songs ^Cmagain or maybe now it’s just a ^Gpast time maybe i should ^Ctreat it like a ^Cmfriend.. a ^Cmfriend i won’t see again.

‘cause i ^Gdon’t^Eb wanna^Em die but truly i don’t ^Dwanna ^Embe ^Galive i wish that i could ^Gvanish ^Ebin my ^Emsheets and turn into the ^Dpuddles ^Emon your ^Gstreet

’cause i ^Gdon’t ^Ebwanna ^Emdie but truly i don’t ^Dwanna ^Embe ^Galive i wish that i could ^Gvanish ^Ebin my ^Emsheets and turn into the ^Dground ^Embeneath your ^Gfeet

’cause i’ve been losing all my ^Gknowledge sometimes i ^Cforget who i ^Cmam and i’m in the ^Gmirror but i don’t ^Crecognize that ^Cmman and my mom wanted a ^Gdaughter but she’d ^Cthink it was ^Cmabsurd ’cause as much as i feel ^Gdifferent family won’t ^Caccept those ^Cmwords they won’t ^Cmlove me if i’m her

but i ^Gjust ^Ebwanna ^Emchange and everybody ^Dtells me ^Emit’s a ^Gphase i don’t feel ^Gright ^Ebas ^Emmyself with my ^Dfailing ^Emmental ^Ghealth

and i ^Gjust ^Ebwanna ^Emchange but everybody ^Dtells me ^Emit’s a ^Gphase i don’t feel ^Gright ^Ebas ^Emmyself my ^Dbody ^Emis a ^Ghell